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Wednesday, October 27, 2010

"The Halloween Tree" Chapter 15

So Moundshroud and the boys are now in Paris, France. These kids sure know how to rack up the frequent flier miles, I tell you what! And I'm totally jealous of their travels. Oh well. At least I can escape through the magic of reading.

So, in Paris, they decide to build Notre Dame. But then a bell is heard ringing in the sky, and with each toll, a voice is heard saying, "Help!" Give you three guesses who's voice that is...

There, hung upside down over Paris, his head for a knocker, was Pipkin in a bell. Or the shadow, ghost, or lost spirit of Pipkin, anyway... Pipkin's head banged the bell. Bong! And again: Bong!

Poor Pipkin! First he's a mummy, then he's a dog, now he's a bell!

So obviously the boys need to figure out a way to save their friend, but how do they get up there? Their brooms seemed to have died and won't take flight anymore. Moundshroud can fly, but he insists that the boys need to be the ones doing the saving...

"Wait. Ah! Inspiration. We were going to build Notre Dame, correct? Well then, let us by all means build it, there! and climb our way up to hard-skulled knock-the-bell sound-the-hour Pipkin! Hop it, lads! Climb those stairs!"

And with the mysterious magic that always accompanies Moundshroud's words, bricks fall into place underneath their feet. With each step upwards, a stair is built to catch their fall.

So they ran on emptiness, with Moundshroud prodding, shoving after. They ran on pure windy light only to have bricks and stones and mortar shuffle like cards, deal themselves solid, take form beneath their toes and heels.

Eventually the reach the very top where the bells are, but Pipkin is nowhere to be seen. He's gone. They must hope to run across him again, which I'm sure they will. But for the moment, they admire the great cathedral they have just built!

"So even as the Romans cut down druid trees and chopped their God of the Dead to fall, we now with this church, boys, cast such a shadow as knocks all witches off their stilts, and puts seedy sorcerers and trite magicians to heel. No more small witch fires. Only this great lit candle, Notre Dame. Presto!"

And at once all the boys shout "Gargoyles!" and Wally Babb couldn't be more excited (seeing as he's dressed as one). What the place needs is gargoyles, and to get them to come, the boys must whistle. And so the whistling begins and the gargoyles come running...

Ah! I'm dying to know what happens! Will they ever save Pipkin for good?

Only four more chapters, only four more chapters, only four more chapters.

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Who is Joaquin?

My real name is Jack. Joaquin the Chihuahua is sort of my blogging alter-ego. I'm just a goofy-looking guy in my (late) 20s, married to the man of my dreams, working at a jewelry store, and trying to find a job where I can use my English Degree. I hope you enjoy reading my blog. And if not, it's no skin off my nose. Go read something else then.

What's New with Joaquin?

I've completed my last semester at UVU! My BA in English should arrive in the mail any day and I couldn't be happier. I've also started an internship with Wallaroo Media in downtown Provo learning content writing and social media. I'm also trying to start up a queer literary journal in Utah called Peculiar with a friend.